


Curly Fries and Pie

by Cielestine_de_Winter



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Aged up characters, Author Derek Hale, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, Insecure Stiles Stilinski, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:07:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22290793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cielestine_de_Winter/pseuds/Cielestine_de_Winter
Summary: Stiles gets auctioned off as part of a fundraiser for the new Beacon Hills Animal Shelter.It’s fine, right?  Like, someone will bid on him.  Right?  It’s not like he’s cheese mold or anything.
Relationships: stiles stilinski/ derek hale
Comments: 8
Kudos: 611





	Curly Fries and Pie

Stiles was pretty sure he was going to die. Yea, he might laugh it up with everyone but going on stage in front of most of his hometown was not in any stretch of his imagination a good time. To grind insult into injury, his appearance on stage was so that people could bid on him. 

As if anyone would bid on him. 

God, how could he have let Scott and his Dad talk him into this? Fundraising for the new Beacon Hills animal shelter be damned. 

Scott gave him the thumbs up, the bastard. 

Allison and Lydia were seated close to the front with purses full of cash for Jackson and Scott, Stiles was certain. Erica had Boyd pretty well covered. Cora had bullied them all into enormous tips for Isaac. Danny had a whole cheering section. 

Which left Stiles. 

No one was going to bid on Stiles. 

This was going to be humiliating and terrible and Stiles was pretty sure he was going to be sick. Lydia would murder him if he got sick on the suit she bought him. Then reanimate him so she could kill him again. 

Maybe getting sick was a bad idea. 

Jackson sauntered on stage. 

Stiles took a breath. So, since high school, college, graduate school, the academy, and five years as an field agent, Stiles thought he had outgrown any insecurity he had about his looks. He knew he wasn’t drop dead gorgeous. But it wasn’t like he was cheese mold. Right? 

Stiles heard his name and sighed. This was going to seriously suck. 

“So, now were have eligible bachelor #3, our very own Stiles Stilinski. Son of Sheriff Stilinski and now an big shot consultant to the FBI. Oh, he’s a catch, ladies and gentlemen.” Mr. Gentry said with a dry, bored voice that made Stiles want to run screaming out the back door. “I’ll start the bidding at $100.” 

“$100,” came a voice instantly. 

Stiles squinted into the crowd. For a second, that sounded a lot like Derek Hale. Which would have been impossible because Derek Hale didn’t live anywhere near Beacon Hills anymore. 

That Stiles knew. 

Not that Stiles kept up with him. Their… whatever it was, went down in big dramatic flames before it could even get started. At least on Stiles’s part. During Stiles’s long drawn out meltdown Derek had been as stoic as ever. Stiles wasn’t even sure Derek was aware it had happened. 

“Do I hear 150?” 

There was a brief moment of silence and Stiles felt his head exploding. Not that it was Derek, but if it was Derek, being stuck with him would be…. 

“Going once…” 

Stiles desperately grabbed the microphone. “Wait a minute!” Stiles called loudly. “I know I’m not much to look at,” Stiles said doing a little spin. Thank god the mic was wireless or else Stiles would have fallen on his ass. 

“150!” 

“Thank you, Mrs. Larramie!” Stiles smiled. 

“200,” the man’s voice called dryly. 

“I also am very handy with a vacuum and dust rag.” 

“250.” 

“Thank you, Janice! I’ll make your picture windows sparkle!” 

“300.” That understated snark was hard to mistake. 

“My dad can also vouch that I’m fearless when cleaning gutters!” 

“350.” 

“400,” Stiles was really hoping he woke up from his current nightmare. If that was Derek the night had only two possible endings. Death or hiding under the bed inducing embarrassment. 

“I know 4 variations of chocolate chip cookies that can make you sing!” 

At this point Scott started motioning to Allison. Allison quickly called out, “450.” 

“500,” the voice of doom called. 

“I can make bread from scratch, Mrs. Johnson!” 

“550,” Mrs. Johnson said eagerly. “600,” another lady called. 

“750,” Mrs. Larramie answered. 

“800,” Derek said without missing a beat. 

“And really good Lasagna!” 

“850,” Allison called quickly. 

“900,” Melissa said from the back row with John. 

“The real stuff, I hope!” John called. 

The room laughed. 

“Sorry, John,” Mrs. Johnson smiled. “950.” 

“1000,” Derek said quieting the room again. This was a really strange way for Derek to be getting revenge on him. 

“Hey,” Stiles pleaded. “We haven’t even talked about dessert yet! Are we talking light like some gelato? Chocolate, vanilla, maybe something fruit based like raspberry?” 

“1050,” Mrs. Jeffries shouted. 

“1100.” 

“Cannoli with home pressed shells dipped in milk chocolate or dark chocolate, your choice?” 

“1150.” 

“1200.” God, what was up with that guy? 

“1250!” Stiles was never so thankful for his father’s sweet tooth as Melissa called out their bid. 

“1300.” Damnit! Derek didn’t even like chocolate! 

“1350!” And Scott and Allison with the save. Stiles almost cried with relief. 

“1400.” Stiles felt sick. He squinted against the lights to try to make out Derek’s form and brought out the big guns. 

“Tiramisu?” 

Many voices were cut off by a growl from the back of the room. 

“25,000.” 

The room fell silent. 

Stiles blinked. What just happened here? 

“That was… great.” Mr. Gentry said glancing at Stiles as though he was some insect trapped in the paint drying on his wall. 

Scott grabbed Stiles and took the mic from him. “Yea, so great job! Let’s hear it for Stiles!” He said grinning as he handed the mic to Mr. Gentry and dragged Stiles off the stage. 

As soon as they got back stage Scott punched him in the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me cannoli was part of the deal? I would have told Allison to bring more money! I would have gotten the pack to put their money together so we could…” 

“Dude, what the fuck? Why didn’t you stop me?” Stiles exclaimed. “Do you know who bid on me? Derek ‘he’s going to kill me’ Hale. I sincerely doubt there will be time for cannoli between defenestration and evisceration!” 

“I only know what one of those things are and I’m thinking you’re overreacting,” Scott soothed him. “There’s always time for cannoli. You’ll make extra, right?” 

“Hey, when is your love-in with Hale? I want to be there first thing with my to go containers,” Jackson smirked. 

“How are you still a douche?” Stiles snarked. Scott led him by the shoulders to the green room. “You know what? This was all to raise money. Hey. I have money. 25k? I can live on ramen for a few years. I’ll paypal you now and you can settle up for me when this is over. Hale’s off the hook and the blood letting does not have to commence.” 

Scott cocked his head and looked adorably confused. “Dude, I don’t get it. I thought you and Derek were… friends? Well, maybe not friends, but… not ‘he’s going to kill me’ not friends. You said he visited you in college.” 

Stiles wished he could explain to Scott the years of gut wrenching longing he had for Derek. True, Scott knew Stiles harbored somewhat of an embarrassing crush, but he never understood what Stiles had been saying all those times he had risked his life to save Derek. Unfortunately, Stiles knew Derek had known all too well. 

And chose to do nothing. 

Which lead Stiles to a life filled with horrifying cliches. Enemies, friends, best friends, jealous phases, drunk phases, angry phases, clingy phases, the big explosive ‘talk’ phase, until finally the quiet no longer friends phase. 

Stiles had been cruising in this phase for a while. Since his pre-academy days. It sucked, but he had a bit of an equilibrium now. It was getting harder now that most, if not all of his colleagues and peers had paired off or married. He was almost used to it- his friend group had done so since high school. But in high school he always had Derek to cling to and now… Well, now that wasn’t really an option. 

Stiles wrestled his arms away and pulled out his phone. He quickly transferred the money listening with only limited attention to Scott’s impassioned speech. He tuned in a bit when Scott worked puppies and kittens into his speech, because really, Scott was a great big ball of fluff when he talked about his job and Stiles couldn’t wallow in his man pain in the face of all that goodness. 

It was frustrating. 

Stiles sighed. “Look, I’m going to skiddattle before Derek comes to collect. Tell him I’ve paid for him.” He quickly turned to the door without meeting Scott’s eyes. He heard Scott start to follow him, but his footsteps stopped when Stiles got to the stage door. Stiles walked through the door and took a deep breath. 

Stiles’s stomach dropped when he caught sight of the man leaning against his rented SUV. Years fell away as he recognized the shadows around the tall form. Shaking his head he made his way over. 

“I’ve paid your ridiculous bid, so you’re off the hook,” Stiles said quickly. “Thanks for the save, though. I was worried no one would bid for me.” 

“Well, you’re not much to look at,” Derek shrugged. 

Stiles snorted. 

“Hungry?” Derek asked. 

Was he really going to do this? After years of trying (unsuccessfully) to get over him, was he really just going to let Derek back in his life? 

Derek raised his eyebrows. “The diner still serves curly fries and they are holding both cherry and apple pie for us. We can get it to go and take it to my place. That way you don’t need to deal with your dad and Melissa gloating when they get in tonight.” 

So, yes. Apparently Stiles was going to let Derek back in his life. “Your place? You still live here?” 

“Not full time. I travel lot on pack business but I kept the loft,” Derek said, patiently waiting for Stiles to make up his mind. 

“You got ice cream at the loft?” Stiles asked unlocking his car. 

“What do you take me for? This is a full service groveling. I’ve even baked those peanut butter cookies you like.” 

“Wow,” Stiles said, climbing into the car and watching Derek click his seatbelt next to him. “I’m not really sure where the groveling part comes in. If anything, I should be the one groveling. I was the one being stupid and emotional, putting my feelings on you and being a petulant glittery vampire about it. Which doesn’t really make sense because I’m not really a vampire and a relationship between Edward and Jacob was problematic at best. Which… actually could make a…” 

Derek chuckled, cutting Stiles off. “How was the Academy?” 

“It was like being in college on steroids!” Stiles exclaimed, “only everyone was out to kick my ass and was like Lydia Martin smart. And the Instructors! I’m amazed I made it out of there alive!” 

“Graduated with honors and a special commendation,” Derek flashed a knowing look. 

Stiles shot a glance at him as he pulled into the diner. Derek just smiled and held the door for him. 

  
  


“…sign over the movie rights,” Derek was saying slumped on the couch leaning against Stiles. “But, I don’t know. What if they make a really bad movie?” 

“But what if they make a really good movie?” Stiles argued. “Who’s on the team?” 

Derek shrugged. “I have an email somewhere. Can you take a look?” He said fishing his phone out of his pocket. “I don’t know names like you do,” he said absently unlocking his phone. His thumb faltered for a minute as his screen saver came up. Stiles easily remembered the night he took the picture of them. It was after a full moon. Derek was still in his full wolf form and Stiles was hugging him tightly, smiling at the camera. 

“You haven’t figured out how to change your wallpaper?” Stiles teased. 

Derek sniffed, leaned closer and snapped a picture of them. He quickly took a look and smiled. With a few swipes of his thumb he set the new picture as his background screen. 

It was late, well, actually, the sky was just starting to show sighs of false dawn. Stiles and Derek had talked all night. Caught up, laughed, and quickly the years apart had evaporated to nothing. He and Scott communicated in bro nods backed by years of knowing each other. Derek and Stiles had to learn to really talk with each other. Years of saving each other made that kind of mandatory. 

“What are we doing here?” Stiles asked accepting Derek’s phone. He started skimming the email Derek had pulled up on his phone. 

“I’ve gotten my head out of my ass and I’m…” 

Stiles sat straight up, his heart racing. He waved at Derek, his eyes glued to the screen. He abruptly stood up and started pacing, one hand holding Derek’s phone to his chest and the other pulling his hair. 

“Stiles? What’s…” Derek sat up, scanning the apartment for danger. 

Stiles stopped and looked at him for a long minute. “Derek.” His eyes glowed purple with his magic as his excitement bubbled out of control. He turned away and paced a minute longer. 

“What?” Derek was getting fairly alarmed. 

Stiles threw himself on the couch next to him and turned to him urgently. “I’m going to do you a solid here, my friend,” he said handing Derek his phone carefully. “Write your manager back. Green light the project, but say you want to be part of it. These people get you. Just being in the same room as them will make your head explode with new ideas.” 

Derek looked at Stiles for a minute then looked at his phone. “What about you?” 

“What about me what?” Stiles sat back confused. 

“You said you were going to take a break from the Bureau, that you were going to keep consulting for a little while. Why don’t you consult on this too?” 

Stiles looked at Derek as though he had grown another head. “I don’t know anything about movies.” 

Derek’s eyebrows shot up. “And I do?” 

“You wrote the story!” 

“You lived it.” 

Stiles blinked. “I don’t understand,” he said softly. 

“The main character. All my main characters. They’re always based on you. Only you. They say you should write about the things you know,” he paused. “About the people you love. So I did. I wrote about you.” 

Stiles stared at him for a long minute. “Have you developed a perverse sense of humor in the last few years? Because this is really not funny.” 

“I wrote my first book when you were in high school. The main character had ADHD and had a nervous habit of counting his fingers,” Derek said not breaking eye contact. “He also was unbelievably brave, funny, and above everything else good. 

“In my next book, the hero saves his friend/ love interest by holding him up in a pool for two hours…” 

“I thought that was a plot device,” Stiles said slowly, his mind quickly reviewing all Derek’s books. 

Oh. 

_Oh._

“Lydia figured it out by the second book. It made the summer before you went to college hell,” Derek said with a hopeful little smile. “I lucked out that no one else knew my pseudonym until you guessed it sophomore year in college.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Derek blushed and looked away. “I’m a raging inferno of garbage…” 

“… _when it comes to relationships. Who would ever want me?”_ Stiles said finishing the quote from Derek’s fifth book. “Me. I want you. We can be raging infernos of garbage together.” 

Derek smiled. “Would you mind if I kissed you now?” 

“I think I would mind if you didn’t kiss me now.” Stiles said as Derek leaned closer. 

The kiss was too soft, too emotional, and much too long in coming. 

So, pretty much perfect. 


End file.
